Monday, 7 February 2011

The finest gold is in our hearts to hold

Fractal divine trees defining the horizon,
Silhouetted black against the golden glow of eventide,
With Helios, most precious liaison,
To thee, god of sun, I abide.

I forfeit the splendour of landscape colour, to glory in your gold,
So colourful your glory, backscattered circular in the fine mist,
Handsome Titan with shining halo I so dearly behold,
The depths of my soul feel so kissed.

So precious is this, within us the alchemist
Strives to distill this divine elixir,
Contain it in flagons, so that in darkness we spray its mist,
In our illusion that we could harness the powers of Excalibur.

We crave its tangibility and bow to Khrysos, god of gold,
The metal, cold to hold, soft and noble, brilliantly gleams,
Mining deep the dark earth for its treasures gold, toiling hard and bold,
To all our material urges quelling it seems.

But those that greed to own it, possessing
like Midas, that everything turn golden that he touches,
becoming starved of what truly is nurturing and progressing,
and for the antithesis thereafter he beseeches.

Pindar says of gold: “…neither moth nor rust devoureth it;
But the mind of man is devoured by this supreme possession.”
The dark Brocken spectre is but a shadow of a summit unlit,
No gold that we in our hands can hold can defy the darkness demon procession.

We seek and seek, seeking the philosopher’s stone,
As we seek, we perpetuate our torment,
For the jewel of happiness is realized in the serenity of being alone,
And in not seeking, and not grasping; by letting be, inviting enlightenment.

Redemption of Midas’ curse,
The river sands turn to gold,
Making light the purse,
So that light can fill the heart of fortunes untold.

Facing our darkness demons ,
Having the courage to be with the pain,
Summoning the wealth of our acumens,
To liberate us from being possessed by demons of gain.

Having gratitude for time and fortitude for patience,
Helios will again ride his chariot across Theia’s canvas,
Without suffering we could not be granted our sentience,
Without blackness we cannot know lightness.

But even in the darkness of the universe,
Selene brings the sun’s light from other people’s day,
In her silver chariot, dragon-pulled, across the sky she will traverse,
And stars twinkle their old light, red, blue and gold, from far far away.

Often we will be embraced by Helios on one side and Selene on the other,
And then she radiates Helios’ glory to us in the dark,
Reflecting the beauty of her brother, who is illuminating the beauty of their mother,
But she will cycle herself between us and her brother, and be dark.

When we are embraced by her, she will end her journey spectacular,
On the horizon, all her beautiful cratered features bathed in the pink of dawning,
Solar gold splendour like a rose unfolding, rays through clouds heavenly crepuscular,
And the day is born to us, all its possibilities to us yawning.

I am absolutely stunned- the beauty of the English language at its best. I thought I understood a bit of English, yet there are so many unknown words for me in this poem, and it all sounds so beautiful- I'll have to look them up to fully understand, and I will...Thank you!

Blog author.

Quirina Roode-Gutzmer

What this blog is about.

This blog contains stories. Some of them are true, some false, some of them are funny, sad, tragic, poetic, rarely horrific, often weird, sometimes downright far-fetched and occasionally in another language. These stories are incubated in a procrastinating mind otherwise occupied by raising three interesting children (for love), translating German texts into English (for bread), writing my novel (for butter), and there was something else (for jam; cherry jam; stoned cherry jam, no less).